


A Change Is Gonna Come

by ussdawntreader



Category: Castle, Gossip Girl, Lie to Me (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-13
Updated: 2009-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussdawntreader/pseuds/ussdawntreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexis was a good girl before Emily moved to New York.  Daughters change, fathers deal, the oldest story in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change Is Gonna Come

 

 

Alexis could take a lot in stride.

Her father, Richard Castle –- yes, _that_ Castle –- used to be womanizing man-whore, but she loved him then and she loved him now that he’s in a monogamous relationship with a man who claims he is an angel of the Lord. Yeah, as in, _God_. With a capital g.

His name is Castiel and he always wears a tan trenchcoat. He doesn’t understand any of the pop-culture references that she, Dad, and Grandma drop on a daily basis. His default expression is confusion. But he makes her dad happy and really, that’s what matters.

Sometimes, her dad’s side-job sucks though. After a particularly scary case at her school, he makes her transfer across town to Constance Billard, some horrible swanky establishment populated by the kind of bitches you only read about in trashy YA novels.

It was hard, being new. She’d been so comfortable with her old friends. They didn’t care about designer clothes or having breakfast at Tiffany’s. They didn’t care who they were seen with after midnight on Thursdays.

Alexis is probably the only one in the whole school who wears the standard uniform.

And then Emily transfers too. Halfway through the semester, she sits beside Alexis in AP English, with Bambi eyes and a wicked grin.

“Hi,” Alexis says. “I’m Alexis.”

“Emily,” she replies. “What’s the deal with this school? Is it Project Runway Day or something?”

“Every day is Project Runway Day here,” Alexis quips, not untruthfully. “Especially for them.” She nods toward Jenny & Co., the group who takes self-satisfaction to a corporate level.

Emily looks them over and then back to Alexis. “Okay then, apparently uniform is more like a suggestion here.”

There’s time to chat before the bell rings for class to begin. “Did you just move here?”

“Yeah, my mom and I just moved up from D.C.,” Emily says. “Sucked leaving my dad behind.”

“I bet,” Alexis says. “My parents split too –- I live with my dad.”

Just then, the bell rings. With a last smile at Emily, Alexis sits up and pays attention. (It’s a habit too hard to break.)

 

+

 

For the first time since the semester started, Alexis invites a friend over after school. She kind of hopes that Dad and Castiel won’t be there (to spare Emily), but of course they are. And so is, Beckett, surprisingly. They’re drinking what looks like Scotch and Emily raises her eyebrows because it’s four-fifteen in the afternoon.

“Hi everyone,” Alexis says. “Cracked a case?”

“Hey darlin’! Yeah, we just solved a little one, nothing –-"

“Your father managed to distract two men with guns,” Castiel reports. “And Beckett rescued a young girl.”

They cheers themselves, still coming down off the high from a case well-solved. “Way to go, you guys!” Alexis grins.

“So, who’s your friend?” Castle asks, smiling gently at Emily. “We’re not lushes, by the way, this doesn’t happen…often.”

“This is Emily Lightman,” Alexis says. “Emily, that’s my dad, Richard Castle, and that’s Castiel, and this is Detective Kate Beckett.”

At the sound of Emily’s last name, Beckett and Castle sit up straighter. “Lightman? As in Cal Lightman?”

Emily shrugs, a bit embarrassed. “That’s my dad. You know him?”

Castle says “Intimately” at the same time Beckett says, “Only by reputation.”

At Beckett’s look of bemused curiosity, he continues, “He was invaluable in my research for Storm Rising.”

“Why couldn’t you follow him around instead?” Beckett grouses good-naturedly.

“Cal Lightman lives in Washington, D.C., and Castle doesn’t have any pull with the mayor there,” Castiel replies for him. “Or the President.”

Castle snickers, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s waist. “Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He shoots a grin at Beckett. “Plus, you know, I like you, Beckett.”

She wrinkles her nose at him.

Taking a look at Emily, stiff and uncomfortable beside her, Alexis smiles and says, “Well, we’ll just be in my room. Homework, you know.”

The requisite goodbyes and then retreat. Alexis looks back in time to see her father lean in on Castiel, smiling hard .

 

+

 

By a month later, Alexis considers Emily to be her best friend. They don’t spend every minute together -- Alexis is too much of a bookworm for that -- but Emily is always willing to hang out (and isn’t desperately trying to get an internship with Jenny & Co.), so yeah, she would be the BFF, which doesn’t really impress her dad.

It’s not that Emily is a bad influence. She just has this thing about _living_ , about throwing parties and drinking sometimes and smoking pot and not being daddy’s little girl forever.

Castle _likes_ that Alexis is his little girl and isn’t like girls like Emily.

She doesn’t change overnight, of course. They still have movie nights, bonding moments, and she still inspires him (a little. Not as much as Beckett). But it feels like just yesterday he was terrorizing her date to the prom. Like it was such a huge deal.

Alexis isn’t even aware of the change, really. Sometimes she goes to parties and sometimes she stays home. She doesn’t like beer –- it tastes disgusting. Sometimes Proust is a lot easier to think about than the intentions in some boys’ eyes.

Emily says that they’re trying to forge identities as adolescent girls. Rebellion. Secrets. All part of that.

And that’s why Castle doesn’t like her. A part of Alexis knows that’s exactly why she won’t give Emily up.

 

+

 

Castiel isn’t “stalking” Alexis. It’s something that a mortal he used to know would accuse him of, but it’s not true.

Her safety is important to Castle, so he just tries to take care of her. Alexis is sweet, inside and out, and makes it easy to care for her. Unlike said mortal he used to know.

She’s at a party, trying not to look bored. She’s got a drink in hand. She turns around only to find Castiel beside her. She knows she should be angry, that her father’s boyfriend followed her to this party…but instead she’s relieved. A familiar face amongst all these strange men.

“What are you doing here?”

They both ask it at the same time. She laughs; he doesn’t. He takes the drink from her.

“Hey!”

“It’s been drugged.”

Her hand flies to her mouth -– she hadn’t taken a sip, but god, that was close.

Castiel understands rebellion. Didn’t he rebel against Heaven? Don’t humans rebel against their Father daily? It’s human nature. It’s angel nature. It’s universal. He just wishes that Alexis’ rebellion didn’t hurt Castle so much.

Her hand on his sleeve. “Castiel? Will you take me home?”

And maybe she meant by cab, but instinctively he raises two fingers, and in the next second, when they’re back at the apartment, Castiel has erased any doubt from Alexis’ mind that he is exactly what he says he is.

Her father is still her father, however, and when Alexis admits where she’s been and what almost happened, she’s grounded for life for the first time.

It almost feels good.

 

+

 

The next morning –- it’s still dark outside so it shouldn’t count –- she’s woken up by the sound of her cell vibrating frantically.

Groggily: “Hello?”

“Alexis? Jesus Christ! Where have you been – I’ve been calling you nonstop for hours!” It’s Emily, voice high-pitched with worry. “Are you okay?”

It feels like her heart stops in her chest for a second. “Oh my god, Em, I’m so sorry! Castiel showed up and took me home. I completely forgot to text you!”

Silence on the other end. It’s the sound of unspoken rage. After the click, Alexis buries her face in the pillow.

 

+

 

In the few weeks that Emily isn't speaking to her, Alexis practices her violin for four hours a day. She wails out Beethoven and Mozart on end, and Grandma raises her eyebrows.

“Think something’s on her mind?”

Castle folds his newspaper. “Well, she’s not at any college parties getting roofied and making bad decisions. And a little Mozart never hurt anyone.”

Martha cocks her head. “She’s moved on to Wagner now. I hope you’re happy.”

“Wagner? Call Dr. Phil!”

“You don’t play Wagner like that when you’re at peace with yourself,” Martha says wisely, in a tone that also says _I’m-your-mother-listen-close-boy_. “Only when something is really bothering you.”

There’s a screech and the music stops suddenly. A muffled thump.

Martha raises her eyebrows again. Pointedly.

“Fine,” Castle says, putting his paper down. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Closed doors have never been a problem for Castle –- he’s kind of a fan of busting them down, actually. Except this one involves his upset daughter who might yell at him and he hates when that happens.

Knocks twice.

Alexis opens the door. Her expression isn’t livid, but it’s not exactly friendly either. “Hi Dad. What’s going on?”

“Do you want to talk?”

The look of stunned disbelief is almost comical. “You want to talk?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk to my favourite daughter? Some father-daughter time is just what we need.”

She smiles despite herself and opens the door to let him in. Violin with a busted string across her bed and bottle of black nail polish on the dresser. (He’s a writer. He’s supposed to observe.)

“How are things at school, Al?” They’re settled now and it’s not at all awkward.

The look she gives him is a look that other people’s daughters give them. Not his.

“Don’t look –- stop with the face!”

“You’re a mystery writer, aren’t you supposed to ask smart questions?”

“Fine, fine. Is school a stimulating environment for you currently? Why or why not?”

Again, the smile she can’t stop curving her lips and the answer comes spilling out: “I hate it there. I hate the people and I hated it before I ruined everything with Emily, and I hate it even more now.”

This right here? This is the daughter Castle misses, and he wraps an arm around her a bit possessively and a bit comfortingly. “Do you want to transfer again? Is it that bad?”

Alexis shakes her head against his shoulder. “No. I just want my best friend back.”

For once, Castle doesn’t say anything, just holds her closer.

A knock on the door and they look up to find Castiel, hovering at the threshold of her room.

Alexis sits up, wipes the tears from her eyes. “Cas, hi. Come in.”

Castiel approaches them but doesn’t sit down. “Alexis, Martha told me that you were in need of comfort. I would like to hug you.”

Alexis almost laughs but steps into Castiel’s open arms. And it _is_ comforting. Strangely, it’s even more so when Castle yells, “ALEXIS SANDWICH” and does just that.

 

+

 

Two days later, when Emily sits down beside her in English, three minutes before the bell, Alexis’ smile is a little less tentative.

“Hi.”

Emily turns to face her after letting out a long breath. “I’m still a bit pissed at you, Al. But I’d like to be friends again, if you’re not mad at me.”

Two minutes.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

Alexis almost forgot how huge and doe-like Emily’s eyes could get. “I put you in danger, Al! It’s my fault you almost got drugged. You could’ve been … oh my god.”

It’s not something Alexis likes to think about. It’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

“Well, now I know not to accept drinks at college parties. And I should have called you, I was an idiot. I’m sorry!”

One minute.

Emily reaches across the space between their desks and hugs Alexis tight.

The bell rings.

Emily reluctantly lets Alexis go. They swipe at their eyes surreptitiously, careful not to show weakness (high school is made up of wolves). Watery smiles and a friendship rekindled.

Class begins.


End file.
